Trial by Fire
by Evie McPhey
Summary: If you asked Tucker one week ago if he believed in magic, he'd have laughed in your face. Ghosts, yeah, but magic was pushing it. Now, though, he's not so sure. Wherein Danny's missing, Sam might be more magic than they first thought and Tucker's just trying to make sense of it all.


The meaning of 'normal' varies for different people. One person's normal can be another person's weird. For example, Tucker's normal involves a half-ghost superhero for a best friend. And for some people, that could be considered weird.

Tucker's definition of 'normal' changed that Saturday when Danny was away.

It was supposed to be like any other weekend without Danny. Tucker would drop by Sam's mansion and they'd marathon a couple movies together in her home cinema before they'd both eventually pass out from a sugar overdose on her couch. He'd forget to call his parents but that's okay because Sam's grandma would make the call for him. But this time he could tell it was gonna be different.

He wasn't sure how he knew, but he somehow did. It was a similar feeling to the one he gets when he comes home to eerie silence after report cards get released.

Sam has always been a strange one, but Tucker had never cared before because that's how he's always known her. But then she started wearing gloves about a month ago. It's not like she's never worn gloves before, but she'd never reacted as violently as she did that day when he'd first tried to take them off.

They were a pretty black lace and Sam kept pulling on them nervously, as though hiding a secret. When Tucker had reached for them, prepared to tease her for it, she'd snapped and almost bit his hand off. Danny had immediately come to her defence, telling Tucker to keep his hands to himself, before siding with Tucker and demanding why Sam had tried to eat him.

"I panicked," she'd confessed, sweating profusely but at the time Tucker had passed it off as her overheating in her black sweater under the summer sun. The message was clear, though; don't touch Sam's gloves.

They hadn't talked about it again and Sam continued to behave just as strangely, if even more so. She never took off her gloves but appeared to grow more used to them and stopped pulling at them, and Danny and Tucker stopped asking about them.

Two weeks later, Danny had told them he would be joining his family on a Fenton family reunion. As it turned out, all of Jack's side of the family has an obsession with ghosts and tearing them apart "molecule by molecule". They'd be going on a ghost hunt, he'd confessed, so they wished him luck.

Tucker had asked Sam if she wanted to watch a film together. Technically, he'd invited himself over but usually it wasn't a problem. Usually she'd just roll her eyes and tell him for the umpteenth time that he might as well live there, and he'd remind her that she was dating Danny, not him, and how he refused to be the weird friend who refused to get a job and lived most of his life on his friends' couch. Sam had laughed along with it and said to him, "Do whatever you want, just stay out of my room."

Okay, for starters, Tucker didn't even want to go anywhere nea her room. He knew Sam's room was off-limits, that was an unspoken rule, so when she'd actually told him not to go anywhere near there he knew something was up.

"Is everything alright?" he'd asked her, and she'd smiled back a tight smile. "Peachy."

As he later found out, her room was so crowded with plants there was barely room for her to sleep let alone room for company.

The strange plants were some he'd never seen before – some with pink leaves, some with a rainbow stem, and so on. Tucker was beginning to wonder where Sam got her plants from.

They made it to the cinema without incident and planned their marathon schedule. After a brief debate on the remake of the Lion King, they eventually got around to watching some of the films.

"I still prefer the animation, I don't get why they have to remake everything," Tucker whines, talking over the end credit music for the live action remake of Beauty and the Beast. He punctuates his remark with a slurp of his soda.

"It's to remain "relevant" with the kids," Sam responds. She fires a popcorn kernel into his mouth and he swallows it in one go. "I personally disagree, but it's whatever. Do what you want, right?"

"They must be doing something right, though," he tosses a kernel from his own bucket towards her. It bounces off the corner of her mouth and they both frown. "I mean, Cinderella and Beauty and the Beast were pretty successful."

"I've not seen Cinderella."

"Neither have I. Should we watch that next?"

Sam's nose scrunches up. "Nah," she admits, "sounds cheesy. Let's watch Power Rangers."

"What, the original show?"

"No, idiot," she slaps his shoulder as she clumsily climbs out of the comfort of her theatre seat, "the 2017 one. That was a good remake."

"Oh, sure," Tucker smiles. "So we can watch five teen superheroes complain about life and call them wimps?"

"Not my original plan, but sounds fun!"

She left the cinema to go put on Power Rangers and Tucker took the moment to think back to Sam's odd behaviour. He knew Sam loved plants, but filling every corner of the house with them was overdoing it a bit, right?

The main menu pops up, and Sam appears moments after, awkwardly rubbing the base of her neck with her free hand, the other holding the remote. She doesn't say much and Tucker doesn't pry, so they sat there and watched the movie in silence, neither addressing the obvious elephant in the room.

When it came to the scene where Zack was caring for his ill mother and Tucker was brought close to tears, Sam eventually spoke. "Do you… think Danny could do with a little extra help?"

"What, at the reunion?" Tucker inquires innocently. "Probably."

"No," Sam frowns, "I mean in general. With his heroics."

"Oh," Tucker thought hard. Did he need help? Danny was always complaining about the weight of the world being on his shoulders and how he could never get any sleep or work done because some ghost or another was picking fights. Maybe it would do him good to have a sidekick. "I guess? But like, he's got Valerie and Dani."

"I know," Sam pulls her knees close to her chest, "but is that enough? Dani's not in the city enough to help regularly and Valerie doesn't know what he goes through like we do."

Tucker turns to her and quirks a brow. She can't be serious…. "You want one of us to join him?" he erupts with mocking laughter, loud and thunderous in the dark of the home cinema.

Sam frowns and curls in a bit more. "But he could get himself killed."

"If we joined him," Tucker begins, holding up his forefinger pointedly, "we would surely die. The only reason he's not dead yet is because he's already dead."

"I know, I know, it's all my fault! But then shouldn't it make sense that I help him?"

"He wouldn't want you putting yourself in danger. We'll help however we can, but you know how he is. He wouldn't forgive himself if something happened to either of us."

Sam bites the inside of her cheek and opens her mouth to say something – possibly to resist his logic. But she appears to think better of it as she clenches her teeth shut instead and stubbornly sinks into her seat. "I hate this," she grinds out.

"Me too," Tucker sighs resolutely, "trust me. I hate knowing all we can do is watch as he gets his ass kicked and stitch up his wounds and be there for him afterwards. It's not enough and it's not healthy for him, either. He needs help but refuses to ask for it, and as much as it hurts me to see him get hurt, I can't do anything."

Sam bites back another remark. "I hate it when you're right."

"Me too."

Another half-hour into the movie, when Rita Repulsa is destroying the Krispy Kreme, she climbs out of her seat to stand before him in all her gothic glory. "I wanna show you something."

Tucker follows her curiously with his eyes as she paces back and forth, blocking the screen. "What?" he asks. "Is everything okay?"

She slows to an awkward standstill in her nervous panic and takes a deep breath to calm her nerves. Eventually, she turns to face him properly. "What if I told you I had the potential of being Amity Park's next protector?" she inquires, playing with her gloves anxiously and Tucker realises this is something important to her.

He blinks slowly, giving himself a moment to wrap his mind around the question. "I'd say," he begins slowly, "you sound like a certain ghostly friend of ours."

She rolls her amethyst eyes and Tucker wants to smile but decides this might not be the best time for jokes. "Not what I meant. I mean… ugh, this is harder than I thought it would be."

"Just show me."

Sam nods. She looks around briefly before her eyes settle on a potted plant in the corner. "Yeah," she muses, nodding to herself and moving over to the corner of the room, where a potted plant sits innocently and unsuspectingly. "Show you."

"What're you doing?"

She drags the plant by the pot as far as she can towards Tucker and he meets her halfway. "Okay, this is gonna be weird, but just wait."

"Are you okay?" he inquires. She smiles back nervously. "Just watch, okay? I'm not all too familiar with this one just yet, but I'm working on it."

"Yeah, sure."

She sits cross-legged before the plant and removes her gloves – the first time he's seen her without them in the last month – and reveals two ink black pentagrams on her palms. Tucker would be surprised if it were anyone else, but he can't say he didn't expect this from her.

"You got tattoos? On your hands? Is that what you've been hiding from us?"

"They're not tattoos, now shut up."

Tucker raises his hands defensively and Sam backs off. She closes her eyes. She takes a deep breath and lets it out, before turning to glare threateningly at her best friend. "No laughing."

"I would never."

"You so would."

"Okay, fine, I promise I won't laugh. Happy?"

"Thanks," she takes another deep breath and lets it out in a long sigh. She plasters on a bright smile and takes the plant by two of its leaves, holding hands. Yes, _holding hands_. With a plant. "Hey, beautiful."

"Ha!" he couldn't resist.

"You jerk!" Sam punches his shoulder and _yeah,_ he's gonna be feeling that tomorrow. "You promised not to laugh!"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry, I just – ha! I knew you were vegetarian, but dude, you don't have to compliment the plants!"

"You don't get it," she frowns, "just shut up and let me do my thing."

"Okay, alright, I'm good. Continue."

"I gotta start again now."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Sam gives him one last suspicious glare before returning her attention to the plant before her. She puts back on her innocent, angelic smile that could fool anyone and picks back up where she left off. "Hey, beautiful," Tucker snorts but otherwise remains quiet, "how are you? My name is Samantha Manson, but feel free to call me Sam. I'm gonna need your help with something, okay?"

A beat of silence follows. Sam shuts her eyes during this beat before she nods and pulls back. "Okay, this is the good bit," Sam pops her knuckles with a quick stretch and keeps her gaze pinned on the plant. She raises her palms to the plant like it's an open fire on a cold Winter night.

" _Helianthus angelicus, gi inquira v'a monten…,_ " she whispers and _wow._ Her eyes and the pentagrams on her hands are glowing. Like, actually glowing. Purple, too! Despite the shock he's feeling, Tucker can't look away. He keeps his eyes pinned on Sam and the plant, even as the veins of both Sam and the leaves throb with a muted purple, blocked by the veil that is their skin, when it all just… stops.

Looking to Sam, he finds her pouting.

"It didn't work."

Tucker couldn't keep his mouth shut. Even in his shock he's still able to mouth off. "Didn't work!?" he cries. "Your eyes were all glowy and stuff! And your hands, and the plant…!

She laughs nervously, eyes still upset. "I guess? That's not what I was going for, though."

"What are you?"

"I'm a – heh – I'm a witch."

"A witch?" Tucker can only believe in so much. Ghosts were already pushing it for him and he wouldn't believe in them if his best friend wasn't half one, but witches…. "Are those even real?"

"Well, how else can you explain my "glowy eyes," as you so eloquently put it?" she crosses her arms defensively. Tucker's quick to apologise in his own special way.

"I'd put it down to lighting," he says instead of the expected apology, "but we're in pitch darkness, so that's a -"

Before he can even finish that thought, the plant suddenly loses its green complexion and begins to wilt. Tucker jolts up while Sam gasps in delight. "It worked!" she cheers.

"What!?"

She turns to beam at him, eyes bright with optimism – an odd look for a goth, he must say. "It worked!" she repeats.

"It-It died!"

"I know!"

Sam proceeds to explain everything. She tells him how she first uncovered her magical heritage the other month when she turned seventeen and accidentally killed a plant by touching it. She confesses that she burst into tears and her mom had called her aunt in hysterics.

The plants were her parents' idea. They keep so many around her house for potion practice – something she questioned at first, too, but later went along with. No, she hasn't got a black cat that goes around giving her terrible ideas, this isn't _Sabrina the_ _Teenage Witch._ The marks on her hands she woke up with one day, and were most certainly _not_ tattoos, because _geez,_ Tuck, she's not that edgy.

"So are you, like, full witch?"

Sam shrugs. "Maybe. My dad's not a witch and my mom skipped a generation. To be honest, though, I'm kind of grateful for this."

"Why?"

"It's brought me closer to my family. I thought we didn't have anything in common, but as it turns out they're good teachers if I just listen."

"Come to an understanding of each other, then?"

"Coming to one, yeah."

She and Tucker share a warm smile, and it feels comfortable. It feels like nothing's changed, despite the bombshell she's just dropped on him. It's weird, but Tucker's used to weird. He can roll with weird. He rolls with weird on a daily basis.

"So you're not freaked out?" Sam asks shyly, brushing a bang of dark hair behind her ear.

"Why would I be freaked out?" Tucker blinks owlishly. "Our best friend is literally half dead. You can't get much weirder than that."

"I guess…."

They sit in awkward silence after that, filled with the end credits music playing behind them. They remain on the floor, hunched over the wilted plant before them. The longer the silence stretches, the more Tucker gets used to the idea that his life is a lot weirder than he initially thought.

And sure, he's jealous, but only a little.

An indefinite amount of time passes before he finally speaks. "Is that why you were asking about helping Danny earlier?"

"Kind of. But I'm not in control of my magic enough to actually be any help. Did you see my work on the plant? It took far too long for it to actually, you know, _work_."

"I guess."

They fall into another awkward but briefer moment of silence, filled with _What Ifs?_ on both their sides. If Sam could somehow gain control over her magic, then there's a chance they wouldn't have to leave Danny all by himself. Before Tucker can even suggest this, though, Sam breaks the silence first.

"I don't want Danny to know."

Tucker's back goes ramrod straight. "Why not?"

Sam shakes her head, smile becoming tired and sad. She avoids his gaze in favour of studying every seam in her purple socks. "He's got so much on his plate already. I don't want to stress him out with something like this when he doesn't have to know. I'll tell him when I've gotten comfortable enough with my magic to actually be any help."

"But he'd love to hear about this!"

"I know, but…."

"Are you two having relationship problems?"

Sam's head snaps up. "Oh God, no, we're fine, just… please, Tuck. Don't tell him until I say so."

Tucker frowns. "Alright… you know he worries about you, right?"

"I know, I know, I just… worry about him, too."

Tucker will never understand couples. But, if this is what Sam wants, then so be it. "Fine," he relents. "But I hope you know if you ever face any problems with your magic, I won't hesitate to tell him."

She smiles a crooked smile back at him. "Thanks."

X X X

Come Monday, Tucker's able to pretend everything is their definition of normal. He's able to pretend his best friend isn't a witch, he's able to pretend his best friend doesn't have pentagrams on the palms of her hands, and he's able to pretend his best friend can't kill plants with a simple command and a 'hey, beautiful'. He's pretty used to pretending at this point.

"Trust me, neither of you know what a crazy family is until you meet the rest of the Fentons," Danny grunts before smacking his forehead against the door to his locker. "They were all either obsessed with ghosts or fudge, it's not fun."

"Sounds rough," Sam commented, one hand on her hip and the other on the strap of her backpack. She's still wearing her gloves. "Any close calls?"

"Too many. Skulker showed up – not his best move, admittedly – and we both ended up in a thermos for twenty minutes, just nudging each other. It was really awkward. If it weren't for Jazz, I'm sure I'd be in the Ghost Zone right now," he turns to stare at them in shock, head still resting against his locker. "Did you know you could make portable Ghost Portals?"

Tucker snorts a laugh and exchanges a look with Sam. "Really rough, then."

"I know," he heaves a sigh and turns to smile at them through his fatigue. "Anyway, how was your weekend?"

Sam and Tucker exchange a quick look. It lasts for barely a second, but the meaning is there.

"Oh, you know," Tucker smiles his crooked smile, "pretty normal."

 **Not gonna lie, I hate this but this is a concept I really wanted to look at and I didn't have a proper story to explore it with so I just threw it into a really bad short story.  
I was telling myself to upload it only when it's perfect, but the more I edited it the worse it got, so here.  
Should I do more on this? I feel as though I left it too open-ended...  
Criticism is greatly appreciated!**


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